Dennis S. Martin's Blog, page 151
June 24, 2021
Save a Penny / Save a Buck
You can't find a single thing
That costs a penny anymore,
But loose change thrown into a jar
Can yield a bounty in due course,
And it's easier to let it sit
And keep its brothers company
Than to haul around in purse or pocket
Like the burden of a horse.
Some may think the mundane task
Of rolling pennies far too trite
To be concerned or bothered by
The burden of collecting them.
And these shortsighted people will
One day retire to poverty
And wonder why the world has not
Been kinder as their candles dim.
The better off are better off
Not by chance and not by luck.
They learned their lesson early on...
Save a penny... Save a buck.
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June 23, 2021
Reveling In Fantasy
I could just sit for days, couldn't you?
Reveling in fantasy,
Allowing the real world to pass me by,
Shading my eyes to reality.
Who wants to live in a world cold with pain
Where sadness dwells on the six o'clock news?
Where the wrangling mangling madness of hate
Runs amuck in spite of Society's views;
Where rules stand for nothing,
And order is shunned,
And freedom is held at the point of a gun;
Where common sense dies,
Compassion is lost,
And worth becomes measured by how much is won.
I'd sooner imagine a different world.
I know it exists;
I've seen it before.
It tickles to laughter the smile on your face,
And holds in its fingers the key to a door
That opens revealing a room filled with glee
Where I can run reveling in fantasy.
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June 22, 2021
Green
Green is the color of Summertime
In multilayered folding shades
Wrapped around her earth-toned hues
Encapsulating nature's glories.
The willow weeps her silent sadness
Dogwoods yelp in bursts of bloom.
The subtle pine stands evergreen
As if too stubborn to submit
To seasons as they come and go,
Reaching out to Winter snow
And Summer rains with equal joy;
To sigh and comfort every breeze.
Breezes float and waters flow
And sunlight touches tender seed
To blast forth with her flood of green
And spring to life where once was void.
Green is life... and life is green...
The guiding symbol of rebirth...
The road to true fidelity...
The color of the eyes of God.
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June 21, 2021
Abuse
It's really hard to understand
The kind of mind-set subject to
The twisted actions put upon
And set upon the innocents,
Whose only crime is being there
In a close proximity
To one whose presence strikes a fear
Of hurt in those of weak resolve.
Why then must you dominate?
Why must you wreak hurt and pain?
What events in childhood
Made your hand a weapon to destroy?
Why can't you endeavor in
The milk of Human kindness
Where the peaceful tides reciprocate
And fill a heart with kindred joy?
And when will all your victims stand
To pay you back for your refuse?
To give you in good measure
A taste of your abuse.
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June 20, 2021
Theories on Creation
I wish I had the answers,
But the questions are so huge
When we theorize the origins
And try to break them down.
As the Prophets wrote in ancient time
Dispelling doubt with testament,
The words of God sent from on high
To call on all humanity.
We toe the line believing
There is something after, something more,
Something worth behaving in polite society;
Whether it be need for Heaven
Or the fear of living Hell,
Or just a need for some small piece of immortality.
Scientists would have us think that
It all started with a bang,
That the universe expands in ways
We cannot truly understand;
That someday far into the future,
In time we cannot measure, it
All will come collapsing in a hurried timeless rush.
And Mister Darwin tells us that
We climbed down from the trees.
That we are ever changing,
That the future will evolve,
And a hundred generations hence
Will look at us and wonder
How Humanity survived
With all its questions unresolved.
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June 19, 2021
Bodacious Banter
You can be so scandalous
With your bodacious banter
As you probe and prod or pick apart
With needle pricks continuing to rant or
Rave for days on end,
Never calling reason in
To settle a dispute with fact.
You just continue to attack
With bleeding knuckles, bloody cheeks,
Blackened eyes that cannot see.
Common sense becomes a stranger;
An abstract curiosity.
Kicking victims when they're down
Like raging bulls in full attack,
Obsessing your obsessions,
Bent on venting for a full payback.
Just don't bring your litany of
Stinging comment bare to me.
I'm too content to hear you vent,
Too discerned to disagree.
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June 18, 2021
Legs
More than just a mode of transport
Carrying from room to room,
Legs are part and parcel
To a sense of sensuality.
Curved and molded, long and luscious
Secretive appendages
That tempt and tease
Libido's ire
To points of curiosity
Where glances linger unaware,
Imagination runs amuck
And fantasy becomes too real
As heat increases by degree.
Turn of ankle, twist of hip,
Touchable, as smooth as silk.
Longing for the good old days of
Hem lines raised above the knee.
Men obsess at their allure,
Grunting, rutting, wallowing
For passersby with skirts hiked high;
Imagination holds the key.
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June 17, 2021
Brazen Hussy
Low cut, high slit bold exhibition
Of lace covered breasts
And mesh covered thighs.
Pheromones broadcast a wide-banded signal
To capture attention from ogling eyes.
Heads turn as brows raise and lips purse
And quiver, marking the moment inquisitively.
What is the message?
Where would she take us?
What substance is hidden beneath what we see?
Good Christian girls could never imagine,
Nor Hindu or Moslem or Orthodox Jew,
Such brazen and bold, such craven behavior
The temporal world has fallen into.
But she flaunts and flitters from one to another
Like hummingbirds feeding on nectar like wine;
Using the wiles that nature has given
To capture the bounty that clings to the vine.
And men being weak, as the creatures they are,
Are helpless to fall for the spell that she casts,
And wind up alone when the time comes to pay for the meal,
When it would have been prudent to fast.
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June 15, 2021
A Dog's Life
Old Buster was not a docile creature,
Though doggie naps were his specialty.
He loved to run and romp and play through
Wood bordered meadows and pastures unending
Where rabbits and squirrels were tests for his speed
That seemed unbounded by all human measure.
No dog in six counties could match his pace.
Totally loyal to family familiars.
Even the cats with which he was raised
Were his to defend if a stranger should pass
Through his yard with a cold-hearted sinister leer.
Visitors knew when they pulled in the driveway
To wait in safe confines if Buster was near.
His bark not a bark, but the baying of madness,
Like hounds of the Baskervilles cast toward the moon,
Quieted only by Master's command
To calm acquiescence and cautious resolve;
Yet staying the sentinel, keeping his watch
Until firmly assured that no harm was in store.
Sadly, old Buster had one fatal flaw.
He loved to go chasing the whining of wheels.
We buried him there near the side of the road
Where he runs forever in Heaven's fields.
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June 14, 2021
One Loose Shingle
A neighbor pointed it out to me
One evening as I opened up my gate
After toiling through
Another day of drudgery,
Hoping for an easy evening
Lounging in my rocking chair,
Drifting off to sleep before
The late night news report.
The evening breeze stirred just enough
To verify the neighbor's tale
And, looking up beyond the dove
Who settled on the gutter rail,
A single shingle waived and fluttered,
Even struggled to be free.
Teasing, daring, taunting me
To climb the mast and lash her sails.
Perhaps the breeze will settle down.
Predicted rains may pass us by.
Perhaps the fluttering will cease and
Settle without help from me.
Perhaps I'll be a millionaire,
Can hire a crew to do my chore
So I can lounge and rock and sleep...
So much for reality.
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